Friday, May 23, 2008

Waiting to begin, caller and bracken.

1. Rose buds hold their petals in tight fists but can't resist showing a peep of red and yellow silk.

2. The doorbell goes just before four, and I know that it's Nick in his sunhat, smelling faintly of sunscreen after a day at the cricket.

3. On the Common, pale green horns of new bracken push up through the grass where eight weeks ago people were toboganning.

Cheese holes, eerie and back at the table.

1. My nephew likes cheese, but only the holes, which I carefully snip out with kitchen scissors. 2. I feel a little bit sorry for the comput...